


An endless fight

by Elyssa_delle_stelle_gelate



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Also a bit of philosophy, Also feelings, Character Study, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Love/Hate, Rivals, Sexual Tension, Smut, hate/love relationships, its complicated, tags will update, will follow in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-10-26 18:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20746607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elyssa_delle_stelle_gelate/pseuds/Elyssa_delle_stelle_gelate
Summary: Elysse lies on her back, eyes half hidden under the heavy lids, slender fingers idly playing the silk curls of the man whose head rests heavily against her bare chest. She lies wondering, contemplating the events of the past few hours. Trying to come to understand how they ended up like this.





	1. Confused

**Author's Note:**

> All right. So, it is my first thing ever to post anywhere since I was 13 so I think it counts as the first thing ever. I know I’m a bit late for the train but come on. I just can’t get enough of the setting and keep coming back every now and then. And since I had this idea for quite a long time but wasn’t able to find here anything quite what I wanted I decided to follow the principle: write the story you wanna read. In the beginning I just wanted a quick sketch of those two but it turned out to be what it turned out. I’m open for suggestions. Also, I have it all finished and just need to polish a few things. I wanted to post all of it at once but then I realized that if I don’t do it know I will probably never do it. PS. English’s not my native language so please feel free to correct any mistakes that catch your eyes (I’m serious - I need to know how “literate” I am :D).

Elysse lies on her back, eyes half-hidden under the heavy lids, slender fingers idly playing with the silky curls of the man whose head rests heavy against her bare chest. She lies wondering, contemplating the events of the past few hours. Trying to come to understand how they ended up like this.

They were arguing.

Arguing for already an hour. Or was it two? Well, actually they’ve been at it ever since the rest of the advisors decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest to postpone the meeting. To be completely honest it wasn’t just the events of the day before that brought about this quarrel. They’ve been arguing for days, weeks even. Since she walked out of the fade, in that unfortunate Temple, they were not able to agree on anything. To a degree of nonsense, one of her companions even joked that had she chosen to wear black and not dark green as her scout armor they would start a fight about it. And, though everyone else in their party laughed at the comment, Elysse furrowed her brows, fearing that that pretty much would have been the case.

She was perplexed. Completely and utterly confused by those endless fights. Was it because she was a noble-born, spoiled silly girl in his eyes? Or because he despised her on principle (Elysse had to admit that this particular thought made her shiver with a pang of regret)? Or perhaps because she, above all else, was a mage?  
Perhaps all of it at the same time? She was pretty sure that was true.  
And thus, she was simply unable to keep herself from arguing with the ex-templar. First of all, because he always seemed to disagree with her. No, actually that wasn’t completely true. First of all because he _was_ a Templar. She knew that he left the order, that he stopped taking lyrium and overall tried to make an impression of someone who wouldn’t abuse people just because they had magic. She knew all of it. Some part of her even believed it to be true. But just as she wasn’t able to stop being a mage (or at this point “the herald”) Cullen wasn’t able to stop being a Templar. In her mind, it just didn’t work like that. Even if she’d stop using magic for the rest of her life she’d still be a mage, as well as leaving the order of crazy fanatics wouldn’t change one’s moral pre-sets and attitudes that have been shaped for literally years under the strict gaze of the Chantry and a madwoman who’s blind obsession led her to becoming a statue. No, in Elysse’s point of view someone who tolerated Meredith for so long couldn’t possibly be anywhere near sane. Even if it seemed that he – was. And that made her even more angry. He was always so smug in his good doing, always pretending that he’s a different person, pretending that he wasn’t the one who let a crazy woman terrorize the whole city for half a decade, pretending that he truly changed.  
Even when he fished her out of the snow, half-dead from the cold he started to tell her off immediately. She didn’t remember much beside him, holding her in his arms, covered in his coat, and carrying her to the camp, softly whispering something with that annoyingly deep voice of his, but she was sure that whatever he was saying to her at the moment was some condescending lecture. Oh, he was always trying to lecture her over anything, as if the fact that he was almost ten years her senior made him an all-knowing sage. And then there was one more thing that she just couldn’t bear. His good looking. And the way all of the women in the keep (and even some men) were watching him. She was almost sure that her Commander slept with every mage, every scout and kitchen maid that were there to be found. And it just made her so angry that she was practically about to explode with fury. No, she definitely wasn’t jealous. It was just the fact that it was her castle and she’d have people in it follow some rules about being decent. But then again, she’s never set any rules, so she was the only one to be blamed if her Commander fucked every female, he was able to get his hands on. But he could’ve at least been humbler about it. For example, stop training the recruits with his shirt off. The first time she caught an eye on the training she froze, watching Cullen order the soldiers around, easily parring their hits, all with the same air of superiority that seemed to be an inherent part of him. She told him off, of course, after the training was over, told him to not parade around half-naked, especially since it was freezing but he just laughed in her face, offered her a private sparring, if she truly wished to understand how those training worked and left her blushing in the middle of the courtyard. And of course, he kept training in nothing but his pants and boots on. So yeah, she was annoyed. He was undermining her authority, telling her off like a little girl and it seemed that he was doing absolutely everything to go against her orders.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

So now, when he stood right in front of her, arguing about her decisions to help mages, save grey wardens, kill dragons and make a million more stupid things to endanger their position, the wellbeing of Thedas and her life, she just wanted to slap him. Wasn’t she, after all, the “mighty inquisitor”? So, she did. She raised her hand, surprising even herself, and slapped him across his smug face. And it felt so good. So, she raised her hand again, intending to repeat her little public execution.


	2. Infuriating

That girl would be the death of him. Everything he’d done, everything he’d said she’d disagree with. It was almost as if she was just trying to piss him off. Acting against everything he’d suggested. Spoiled, selfish little brat who wanted everything and everyone to follow her will. He growled at the mere thought of it. Of course, he knew that she wasn’t spoiled. Even though she was a noble spending half of the life locked up in a circle would have definitely erased any selfishness or spoiling. Besides, he saw her with the others, saw her help people, care about their wellbeing, sometimes even to the point of nearly exhausting herself. And yet, with him it seemed as if she was changed into a completely different person. The thought of her being possessed even crossed his mind once. She was infuriating, as annoying as a human can ever be or even worse. They’d agreed (now he was wondering of how were they able to achieve such a miracle) in the very beginning that the ex-Templar will keep an eye on the mage. Just in case. For her own well-being. Nothing too imposing or intrusive. He was just to take certain measures was she to lose control over her powers. They’ve agreed to that at first but then both regretted the decision. As her personal guardian, he ought to supervise her every training while she was in the keep and it seemed that she was casting absolutely every known for her spell. Focusing, obviously, on the most dangerous ones. After those trainings, both were usually too exhausted to even argue. She from casting those spells and drain of her mana, he- from the constant push and pull of the Lirium, pulsing through his veins. He once tried to persuade her to stop torturing both of them with those spells. To no avail, obviously. After that she just tried harder, casting more and more powerful spells each day. 

He could’ve just stop all of it. After all, he was older and more in control of himself (or so he hoped at least) but he simply didn’t. He kept fighting with her about the most insignificant things. Kept disagreeing until the air around them was tickling with almost electrical tension. He kept doing all of it despite it left them both angry and exhausted as if arguing with her gave him some kind of pervert pleasure. The thought has crossed his mind once (actually even more than once, but he would just not be honest with himself) but he shed it away. That wasn’t the case. It simply couldn’t be. He didn’t care about this infuriating creature, it was only a justified concern for the Inquisitor, not for her, after all on her wellbeing depended the wellbeing of the whole world. And yet he couldn’t deny the heat that rose inside him when she told him off after seeing him train in nothing but his pants, couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt when she blushed at his ambiguous proposal of a personal training, couldn’t deny the dreams that came in-between his usual nightmares. That was ridiculous. She was able to annoy him even when not physically being there. At one point he gave up. He was after all but a man, so he admitted to himself his desire for her. But he would never agree to him, really caring for her. And yet...

He remembered way too well how his heart sunk at the sight of a little black figure collapsing on the snow. By the time he reached her she was already half-covered in those white flakes, her body stiff and frozen, all color faded from her face. He remembered wrapping her up in his fur mantel, cradling her close to his chest as he rushed to the campsite. Remembered whispering her to hold on, remembered the way she shifted in his arms and let out a moan of pain. He wasn’t sure if she was hurt because she was freezing or because he was holding her too tight. Remembered how exhausted he felt when she was finally handed over to healers, how he couldn’t find anything to put his mind off of her as she lay unconscious for almost two days, remembered how relieved he felt when she has finally glanced out of the tent, still shivering a bit but other than that intact. And then, of course, he remembered how the expression of her face changed when the Seeker told her who exactly has carried her from the blizzard, almost risking his own life (though he disagreed with her and the healers on that) in saving hers, how she approached to thank him, her face grim, all of her tense as an aimed bow, ready to shoot, how he felt like yelling at her, again, telling her how reckless she was, again, how… But he didn’t. He just nodded in acknowledgment of her gratitude and walked away; fists clenched in silent fury. They haven’t talked since. She set off to the Hinterlands almost immediately upon them reaching the keep. Set out to help refugees and save a few lives here and there. And now what was he hearing? That she went dragon-hunting! Less than two weeks after she almost died in the attack in Haven she went and found a dragon to kill! She was almost glowing with her success when she reported it at the war table. So, he scolded her, starting this very argument in a foolish attempt to reason with her and make her more careful. She exploded right there; he wasn’t even able to finish the thought. What was that she said? That he could’ve for once congratulate her and show at least some appreciation for her success. She killed a dragon, for Maker’s sake, and she wanted people to be happy about that. Then he responded that only fools would be happy with her risking her life unnecessarily. And so, they went on, Ambassador and Spymaster suggested to call it a day and continue the next time when everybody calmed a bit. But they didn’t. She followed him through the hall, angry, proving him to be wrong until finally, he was not able to reason with himself any longer. He behaved like a reasonable adult for too long this day. If she wanted a fight, she’d get it. So now they were here, standing in the middle of a still ruined courtyard, yelling at each other and making a scene. How nice for people to learn that the Inquisitor and her Commander were not able to agree on anything and, even more, acted like spoiled children, not able to at least keep it all private.

So now after all those arguments about mages and Templars they found themselves in the middle of the courtyard. Joséphine suggested them to take a walk to the tavern and to try to discuss everything over a cup or two of ale but they never made it to the establishment. She said something to annoy him, again, he responded with something no less annoying and so the fight renewed. Again. 

And since that girl was his superior he was able to do absolutely nothing about it.  
The slap didn’t actually hurt, but the feel of her hand on his cheek brought back his attention to the reality. He caught her hand midair, preventing the second hit.


	3. Desperate

The slap didn’t actually hurt, but the feel of her hand on his cheek brought back his attention to the reality. He caught her hand mid-air, preventing the second hit.  
Cullen growled in frustration and squeezed mage's wrist almost to the point of painful. Why did she do that? He wasn’t actually paying attention to what any of them were saying anymore. He just knew that he would not allow her to make a scene (well, to continue it, as they’ve already made one) in front of all those people in the middle of the courtyard. So he pretended not to notice the slight wince she made, as he dragged her up the stairs towards the tower he made his office, but slightly loosened the grip around her wrist. They’ve reached the door and he pushed the girl inside a dark room slightly too rude. She stumbled, almost falling down as he forced her forward and turned around just in time to see him turn the key, locking them in.  
-what do you think you’re doing?!- the anger in her voice nearly palpable.  
-you’re not leaving here until you are calmed down and we've solved all of this once and for all.  
Her eyes widened in surprise as her fist was met with the sturdy leather of the jacket underneath his coat. Somehow, she was sure (a brief and yet ignored warning of a circle-mage in her mind) he was wearing a metal, Templar-like cuirass, cleverly hidden by all the clothes and furs.  
The man grabbed her wrists again, aware of the bruises that already started to form on her pale skin from when he gripped her before.  
-that is not calm, - Elysse tried to break away from his grip, but he only held her tighter.  
-let go, - her voice, barely audible and hoarse from the shouting broke the silence when she raised her head to look up.  
She gasped as her eyes met his, his face was too close, way too close for all this to be appropriate, if anything at all was ever appropriate between them. Her breath came in short gasps and she yanked her hand out of his, the grip on her wrist not nearly as strong as it used to be, and then the sudden realization struck her. There was not only anger in those warm-honeyed eyes, there was something else, something primal. An unchecked desire. He didn’t hate here (well, apparently not only) he... wanted her?  
She backed from him, stumbling, some new, unnerving emotion briefly crossing her face, her brows furrowing for an instant, eyes wide as if in fear. Cullen almost cursed his temper when she smirked mischievously, biting down on her bottom lip, then abruptly turned on her heels and headed towards the ladder.  
"Inquisitor? What do you think you’re doing?" if he had any concerns about her mere seconds ago now they were all gone, nothing in his voice betrayed any trace of any feelings.  
"well, _you_ can stay down here, locked up and solving some problems all you like. _I_ have better things to do than waste the whole day arguing."____  
"didn’t seem so a few minutes ago" he muttered under his breath, asking in full voice as to how exactly she thought to get out of the tower from its upper floor and almost laughing at her response about her ability to use windows "and here I was beginning to think you were a serious leader of an organisation responsible for saving the world and not some roguish monkey, climbing the walls."  
Elysse stopped halfway through the ladder and turned, her gaze so full of ice he was sure she’d be able to freeze him with just that. But she said nothing and soon he saw her slender form disappear as she reached the top of the stairs.  
She heard an annoying laughter from below that followed her curse of disappointment at the lack of any side windows. The only one was exactly on top of the one in his office below and led to a cliff. She knew she had no real need to escape, especially not by risking her life. She knew she could have stayed and talked this all out. But that was what _he_ wanted of her, so _she_ wanted exactly the opposite.____  
"there’s always a hole in a roof!" she yelled from upstairs, "Maker, it’s freezing! How do you even sleep here?! No wonder you’re always so grumpy and ready to kick things."  
"you can climb in the bed and warm it if you like!" now, she was really getting on his nerves.  
"oh, and here I thought you’d just lo-o-ove a proper blizzard in your room."  
Cullen felt the pull of her magic and cursed, standing up from his table and rushing up the ladder. Surprisingly the room was empty and intact: not a magic-evoked chaos, nor a mage.  
"Inquisitor?" now he noticed a slight trail of ice on the window frame, damn it, he approached it just in time to see her slip on the ice she summoned and catch her by the shoulder "don’t you think that ice-skating on the edge of a cliff might not be your brightest idea?"  
The mage’s look was as cold as the ice she slipped on, but she grabbed the hand that caught her, holding tight as the soldier pushed her up and back indoors. They’ve felt on the floor as he dragged the young woman out of the chill mountain air and she landed on top of him with a gasp, her face mere inches away from his. Again. For the second time this day. He resisted the sudden urge to pull her closer, but his hand flew up, against his will, to tuck a loose lock of light hair behind her year. A soft smile appeared on her lips for a brief moment and he felt his stomach twitch. She was still getting on his nerves.  
She felt him push her of off him and quickly stood up, shaking off the invisible dust of her clothes, finally releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.  
"how nice of you to care for the well-being of your “beloved” Herald."  
He got up with a grunt, trying to avoid looking at the mage. The mere sight of her made him want to yell at her, tell her what an idiot she was to behave like this, tell her that she behaved like this all the time, that he knew that her only aim in those fights were to just piss him off because of who he was and that it was stupid. But then again, wasn’t he acting the same way. He felt a push to his shoulder.  
"what now?" he barked the question surprising even himself, he didn’t mean to be that rude, not now at least, but she was just so... so annoying.  
"See?! You’re doing that again! You don’t even need a reason to order around or yell at me!" her face was flushed with anger, hair dishevelled from her stupid escape attempt. He was having a hard time concentrating on what she was saying.  
"would you just stop for a moment and tell me what you wanted in the first place?!" he surprised himself with relatively calm tone he was able to master after all.  
"the key! I want to get out of here!"  
"no."  
He felt as if she was about to explode upon hearing the refuse.  
"what?" her eyes narrowed in rage; lips pursed in a tight line.  
"I said: no."  
"look, commander" she made a step forward "I’m not some of your circle-mage charges to be ordered around, to..."  
"Would you please stop?!" she knew she was playing with fire; she knew she was overstepping the boundaries; she knew he knew that she did and still she went on "inquisitor."  
He was so infuriating, so annoying, so...  
"Elysse!" the menace in his voice finally made her silent.  
She stared at him; eyes wide agape. He never used her name. And it felt... strange. Though not at all unpleasant, she caught herself thinking that she wanted him to say it again.  
She finally shut up. He finally caught her attention.  
"Now get out of here" the shock in her eyes caused a bolt of some pervert pleasure run through his body. Now that caught her attention and made her keep silent. Something he rendered almost impossible.  
It was his idea, true, to lock them in here, to try to resolve all that but now, hearing her say all those things. It made him want to throw her away and never see her face again. And yet he wanted her to stay here at the same time. Though he had serious doubts they’d be able to solve any of it, peacefully or at all.  
And then she opened her mouth again, to argue, no doubt. He knew she would, he had hoped she would.  
Maker, he didn't want to fight with her. He wanted _her_. Wanted for longer he would like to admit, longer than he would dare to admit, even to himself. And now it all seemed somehow too impossible to bear any longer.__  
So, he didn’t let her to utter a single word and closed the remaining distance between them in an instant, pressing her into the stone wall. She gasped, air leaving her lungs at the impact.  
"wha..."  
_"That girl would never shut up, now, would she?"_, he wondered, as he pressed his lips against hers.__


	4. Agreed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All right, I know it's been awhile etc etc but with all this thesis thing, holidays, Italian universities being closed I completely forgot to finish that chapter. I did, though. At first I was intending to simply edit it a bit since it was ready since the time I posted the first one, but then inspiration struck me and I wrote a couple more pages. It may (and probably does) have mistakes so I apologise in advance. I will, however, read it through in the morning and edit.
> 
> Anyway.Last chapter of this mini-fic. Hope you'll enjoy it (it turned out differently from what initially planned to do but I rather like it too).  
NSFW

Cullen tried to suppress a low groan that escaped him as the young woman shifted in his hands, pressing into his body, her fingers in his hair. Maker, how long has it been since he first thought of doing that, of kissing her breathless, making her squirm and gasp and hold onto him. His lips trailed down from her ear along her throat, to her collarbones, meeting there with the fabric of her shirt. The mage gasped as he tugged on the material, buttons hitting the floor, the piece of clothing following them in mere seconds, leaving her exposed to the cool air of the room. As if hypnotised the man trailed his hands up her slender waist, cupping her bare breasts, brushing the thumbs over her peaked nipples. She wasn’t wearing a breast-band. Sure thing she wasn’t, would even be her if she was. Infuriating little thing. The thought of her going around her days little else than a thin shirt made the fire inside him burn even hotter. He leaned in, taking one of the rose buds into his mouth, sucking hard, while pinching the other, letting the girl relish in that tiny bolt of pleasurable pain. Her head felt back against the stone wall, heavy breaths escaping her lips as she held on tight, not quite trusting her legs, fingers tangled in his blonde curls. He dropped to his knees, lowering his kisses. The thought of her, not wearing any smalls either never leaving man’s brain. He tugged at the strings of her pants and slipped them down her ass, hands lingering on her behind.

“Not that bold after all, huh?”, the tormenting question answered as he pressed a chaste kiss to her silk-covered groin. Mage’s legs trembled and he rose abruptly, catching her just in time.  
“Bed…”, she manged to gasp as he stumbled towards it, his hands still exploring her body.

They collapsed on the bed, Elysse on top, straddling him as much as the pants around her ankles would allow. Heated blush on her checks, long hair framing her in a messy halo, nipples stiff from both the cool air and his attention, and her lips… Swollen, almost bruised from their rough kisses. Cullen wanted nothing more than to devour those lips once again. Not waiting for her to properly take off the rest of her cloths he flipped her, kissing her as a man possessed. This time she did not hesitate a second before opening up and letting his tongue slip into her mouth. It felt like heaven, simply kissing her was better than anything he imagined. He couldn’t get enough of her. But both needed to breathe. He was the first to pull away, panting heavily he pressed his forehead to hers, cupping her cheek he stroked her lower lips with his thumb, she instantly sucked it in, glaring him straight in the eyes, with that infuriating look of hers. It was his time to moan now, her nails running along the sore muscles of his back. When did she even managed to rid him of his jacket and shirt? She slipped her hand between their bodies, cupping him through the pants that became way too tight what seems like hours ago. He growled at the touch and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder, sucking and biting gently, making sure to leave a mark.

Abruptly puling away from her he kneeled at the edge of the bed and before she could even start her confused question, pressed his lips to the wet spot on the simple beige smalls she was wearing. Elysse bit down on the knuckles of her hand in a fruitless attempt to stay quiet when she felt his tongue swirl around her entrance and then slipped in through the fabric. She felt, more than heard, him chuckle as she cried out at the sensation. The man pulled away and took the last of her clothing off of her, licking his lips at the sight of her glistening cunt, having rid himself of his clothes as well he spread her legs wide and up, exposing her to his eyes. Feeling as if he could explode from the sight of her, spread wide on his bed, a dishevelled wild mess, alone Cullen leaned in to give her lower lips one more kiss, tracing his tongue from her clit to the glistening entrance, revelling in the moan she gave him when he pressed deeper.

“Would you please stop teasing me?!” mage’s voice a pitched moan of disappointment when he withdrew from her entrance to place a kiss on her inner tight.  
“Why would I? You did it for the past few months” his teeth scratched the tender skin as he spoke.  
“No, I di…” she trailed off into a surprised moan when his finger swirled around her dripping entrance and then pressed to her clit.  
“What, in the Maker’s name should I do to stop you from your endless arguing?” Cullen kept kissing her, slow, tortuously slow, going back to where she wanted, needed him most, eliciting the most wonderful sounds from her.

She felt her cheeks burn aflame with the new sensation his tongue was giving her as he pressed in into her along with his finger. She’d never been with a man before, not like she didn’t want to, she just didn’t want those men. But him, she felt a bit ashamed by the fact, him she wanted. She just never even hoped she’d ever get the chance to have him. The sensation of his tongue and his fingers becoming too much, adding to the already blinding feeling that it was his tongue, his fingers that were doing that to her. She touched herself, of course, many times so, and for the past few months it was him she imagined doing things to her, making her submit to him, fucking her senseless. But her own aristocratic, too slender fingers were in no comparison to his rough ones that were now bringing her entire bliss. His tongue suddenly left her, being replaced with the second finger, stretching her tight hole wider than she ever was before, almost to the point of painful. Fuck… His fingers trying to breach her with his tongue swirling around her nub was too much. She came with a moan, grasping the sheets in her hands.

A bite to her lower lip brought her back to reality and she shivered under his gaze. He watched her, that smirk on his lips, making him look even more smug than ever.  
“I want you”, her hoarse voice barely audible. Cullen almost laughed at the confession.   
“Well, finally something we can agree on”.  
He kissed her again an she tasted herself on his tongue, that, combined with his fingers still pumping shallowly inside her bringing back her desire in no time. As she started to moan louder, he withdrew his fingers from her and coated himself in her juices, her being wet to the point of a small spot starting to appear on the sheets. He positioned himself between her legs, tip of his cock brushing against her wet hole, mere inches from thrusting in, claiming her as his, something he wanted to do since he first laid eyes on her, if he was to be honest.

He tore his gaze from her glistening cunt to look her in the eyes as he was about to enter her.  
“Elysse?” the man paused seeing her not returning his gaze, looking anywhere but his eyes “Ely…”.  
The realisation struck him dumb folded as she finally looked up, confusion mixed with the smallest hint of concern in those beautiful eyes of hers.  
“Have you ever really been in a circle?” he almost laughs, apparently unable to suppress it. Her checks burnt even brighter red then they were before as if all the blood that was in her body left and went to her face.  
“I… Perhaps we…” she sights, as she’s struggling with what exactly she wants to say, not even realising what he feels at the moment “damn it, silly girl” she mutters and the furrow of his brows deepens, “what I mean is, I’ll understand… that is… if you don’t wa…”.  
He stops her with a kiss, tender this time, his hands leaving their neither parts to hold her closer, silly girl she is he thinks, lifting one of her hands up, she takes the cue, wrapping herself around him, relaxing into the kiss. When they break both are breathless but there is no more tension in the air. Cullen gives her a what he hopes reassuring smile and she rolls her eyes chucking at herself.  
“I won’t hurt you” his eyes felt on her bruised wrists and he brought them to his lips in a silent apology, all of the sudden way too aware of his actions “I promise. Just... tell me if you want me to stop”.  
“What if I don’t mind?” there, her insufferable smirk coming back to her face and for a split second he wondered how in the void did she managed to stay away from men for all her life, wondered if she was telling the truth. Those thoughts instantly disappearing as her hand drifted down, gentle fingers wrapping around his now painfully hard cock making him growl “please… I want you to take me. You… Cullen…”.  
He let her guide him to her entrance, slick as she was and already stretched with his fingers, the tip of his cock sliding in easily. She raised her hips slightly, meeting him, taking more with each slow move.

“Oh, fuck…” Cullen pressed his forehead to hers, stilling himself, sweat starting building on his temples from the effort while as her own actions were not making it any easier to slum into her right away. Yet there was that part of him that was revelling in this sweet torture as he was intentionally stopping himself. He knew perfectly well she was ready, that she could take it, that she was, actually enjoying it, wriggling under him as she was that he had to grab her hips to still her too, rough. She moaned lewdly when he did, so yeah, she was enjoying him being rough. That’s exactly why he was taking it slow, too slow, his thick length sliding inside her tight cunt inch by inch at a tortuous pace. She wanted to slap him, move, already as she felt his cock enter her, stretching almost to the point of painful and she loved and hated it at the same time, his grip on her hips not letting her to take the control over. He stopped completely and she whined, the feeling of being full, of being stretched that wide almost too much and not enough at the same time. She knew she was small and in the first seconds a thought of how’d he even be able to fit did cross her mind, but she didn’t really care, never felling pain to its fullest she actually wanted him to be rough, to make her whine. And he was, but for all different reasons, he simply was taking his revenge on her, torturing him, she knew he knew what she wanted. She knew he wanted it too. So, he was simply punishing both of them.

And then she felt it. Right when there were the last inches of him for her to take, he slammed the rest of the way into her, hitting that spot inside her that made her moan. He loosened the grip on her hips and let her meet him halfway when he withdrew and thrust in her again, setting a slow yet rather enjoyable pace.  
“More” her moan made Cullen think that he will not be able to last any longer. Sitting back on his heels he brought her up as she steadied herself he withdrew from her until just the tip was parting her folds and then let her fall onto him, setting an almost punishing pace he let her impale herself on his cock, nearing the end with each trust. From her little cries and moans and the way her cunt was clenching around him he could say that she was almost there as well. He leaned to her breast, closing his teeth around her left nipple, tugging with his fingers on the right. She cried out and arched back, her walls squeezing him so tight he could contain himself no longer.  
“Elysse...” her name a broken moan on his lips, almost like a prayer as he spilled into her. They both collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs slicked with sweat. Lying down on his back Cullen pulled the blanket over the mage who was now hugging tightly to him, her hair splattered all over his chest as she rested her head there, placing soft kisses to the scar-painted skin.

“Hope perhaps now you will let me have you here for a little while” he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head “so we can finally discuss something peacefully”.  
“Well, perhaps… If you won’t order me around and tell off” she didn’t have to look to know the man rolled his eyes at her, she did, though, lifted her head from his chest to place a light kiss at his lips, biting slightly at his bottom lip “on the other hand. Perhaps I will let you order me around with that voice of yours, sometimes”.  
She suddenly burst into laugh and held the man tighter. All those months of endless fighting. She was so bitter that the only thing she made him feel was a desire to argue. And now. Now it turned out to be that both of them were just some stupid fools. He didn’t hate her! That thought made her head light as if she just downed a bottle of the best Orlesian wine. He didn’t despise her! She was so calm now in his arms, so... at home.   
“What is it?”  
“Oh, nothing. Templar. I just thought of all the time we’ve spent at each other throats while you could have do all that ordering of yours in a completely different environment”.  
“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have stop us from arguing” Cullen smirked at the insinuation in her voice and hugged her closer as they both drifted to sleep.

  
\-----

  
-I’ll wear green, after we cross the mountains, we’ll enter the fore...  
-Dark grey would be better. It’ll let you stay unnoticed in both terrains.   
She turned at his annoying voice and opened her mouth to argue when an unusual sound made her look the way her party gathered. The Seeker was actually laughing, dwarf and Tevinter mage joining her at that outburst of emotions.  
The inquisitor looked back at her lover, eyes narrowed. And yet she was unable to hide the smile that was threatening to turn into a wide grin. He approached her, half-hugging her from the behind and placing a peck at her temple, making her blush colour all of her checks, almost matching his mantle. How was he being so open about them?! But it felt so right. She relaxed to his touch and tried to regain at least some semblance of the authority. 


End file.
